


gimmie gimmie s'more

by idkspookystuff



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Brief Mention of Bear Attack, Brief Mention of Medical Emergency, Brief mention of starvation, Camping, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Eating, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Death, Praise Kink, Recreational Drinking, Safe Sane and Consensual, Skinny Dipping, Trans Male Character, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Penetration, trans!Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27122518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkspookystuff/pseuds/idkspookystuff
Summary: Shane somehow convinces Ryan to go on a weekend long, technology free sex-cation in the middle of the woods, with nothing more than a tent and a blanket to protect them from the elements.or a weekend full of sex and feelings dump in the woods
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	gimmie gimmie s'more

**Author's Note:**

> hi!
> 
> so this behemoth of a fic is based on a supernatural fic i wrote when i was 16 (for reference i'm 20). for some reason i feel like the supernatural fic is better?? so obviously my writing skills have deteriorated. 
> 
> i hope you like this. i haven't written smut in over two years so i may be a little rusty. i literally have no clue what else to say about this fic soooo yeah i hope you enjoy it! comments make me super happy. feel free to follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/rosegoldphil) if you feel so inclined.
> 
> thanks
> 
> \- [-isaac](https://twitter.com/rosegoldphil) (they/them)
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> in this fic Ryan is trans FTM. he's had top surgery but not bottom surgery. both he and shane use traditionally "feminine" language to refer to his genitalia. everything regarding Ryan's gender that happens in this fic is consensual, and always check with your partner about the language they prefer. if this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to stop reading. no hard feelings. i myself identify as an afab enby and i use the language i myself would be comfortable with.
> 
> please let me know if i need to add any more TWs here and to the tags. thanks.

“Ryan. Ryaaaan. Ryan. Ry-guy. Baby. Love of my life. Boogara. B boy. Berryga-“

“Holy shit.” Ryan doesn’t look up from his phone where he’s playing mobile sudoku like an old man, but he does tilt his chin in Shane’s direction. 

“Look at me,” Shane says. Ryan complies as best as he can, (Shane is lying on his chest, after all, which is an awkward angle), but at least he’s done with mobile sudoku. Shane casts his eyes up at Ryan, fucking gorgeous and open, and then he claps his hands together and says, “camping.”

“Nope,” Ryan replies, and he’s back to mobile sudoku before Shane can even finish his sentence.

“Ry,” Shane says. He makes grabby hands at Ryan and Ryan finally puts his phone down to lace their fingers together. “It’ll be fun.”

The thing is, Ryan, in spite of Shane’s relentless teasing, isn’t some kind of Californian flower. He’s been camping before with his family as a kid, and actually enjoyed it. That kind of camping, though, involved a rented RV with an actual bedroom and a place to cook food. He figures Shane, a wild midwesterner, has something different in mind. Some kind of rustic camping experience where they’ll both be mauled by a bear in the middle of fucking, or something. 

And besides, Ryan would rather take his rare time off from worrying about Watcher fucking Shane in their bed, in their house, and not in the bear infested woods, thank you very much. 

“The last time you said something would be fun, I had to bring you to a Vegas ER to have a dragon dildo surgically removed,” Ryan points out.

Shane shudders at the memory. “It wasn’t exactly surgical,” he argues.

“Dude, they knocked you out for a good twenty minutes.”

Shane waves a hand as if he can get rid of that memory. “Well anyway,” he says. He rests his hands on Ryan’s stomach, under his shirt, and looks up at him through big brown eyes.  _ Dirty pool _ . “Just imagine it, Ry,” he says, his voice soft. “Just me and you. No one around for miles. The sun on our skin.” He moves his hand lower. “ _ All  _ our skin.”

“I fucking hate you,” Ryan answers, his voice a bit rough. Shane doesn’t answer, and Ryan raises an eyebrow at him. “No more dragon dildos?”

Shane holds his other hand, the one not currently attempting a break into Ryan’s pants, up in the air. “I do solemnly swear.”

Ryan sighs. “Fine!” he answers, and Shane rewards him with a rather mind blowing orgasm, so Ryan can’t be totally to blame for his Pavlonian response to Shane’s puppy dog eyes.

**FRIDAY**

Ryan isn’t sure if he should feel vindicated or scared that apparently  _ apprehensive  _ was the right word to describe how one should feel about Shane’s camping plans. As Shane unloads his car, it’s brought to Ryan’s sharp attention that Shane has packed very lightly: a cooler full of cheap beer, a small tent, an inflatable mattress (which, like, okay), a single blanket and multiple bags of graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars. It seems that he’s brought no real food for a three day camping trip. Ryan’s not entirely convinced that they’ll be able to live off this diet, but Shane, taking off to their location with a tent and cooler in hand, seems non-pulsed. 

“Hey Shane?” Ryan asks. Shane turns to look at him and Ryan holds up the cooler and one of the bags. “The fuck?”

“S’mores,” Shane answers, which does not answer Ryan’s question but okay. “Come on. Grab the rest of it. We’re burning daylight, baby!” 

Ryan grabs the rest of the stuff, grumbling under his breath as he follows Shane. Shane arrives at the camping site first, true to his word, there are no people around, and pulls out the instructions for the tent. A smirk spreads over Ryan’s face as he watches Shane, furrowed brow and all, reading fucking instructions on how to put up a tent. “Need help, bud?”

Shane looks up at Ryan and rolls his eyes at the cocky face staring back at him. “Nah,” he answers. “I got this. Just sit right there and look pretty, baby. Leave the hard work to me.”

Ryan sits on the edge of the cooler and watches Shane struggle for the next ten minutes, grumbling under his breath. Eventually, Ryan decides to stop torturing the guy and gets up, helps him set up the tent. It takes all of two minutes, and Ryan smiles at Shane when it’s done. “Fuck you,” Shane says. “I totally had that in the bag.”

Ryan laughs. “You’re such a liar.” He puckers his lips at Shane and says, mockingly, “say thank you, baby.”

“Thank you, baby,” Shane replies as he presses his lips to Ryan’s. “Now come on,” he says. “Let’s get this air mattress going.”

Unfortunately, the two of them don’t have as much luck with the air mattress as they did with the tent. “I see,” Shane says, kneeling on the floor. “It needs batteries.”

Ryan rolls his eyes at Shane. “You didn’t think to replace them?”

“It’s not my fault,” Shane defends. He flops the end of the air mattress on the floor. “It’s Steven’s air mattress.”

Ryan is kind of morbidly curious how Shane talked Steven into giving them his air mattress, or why Steven even has an air mattress in the first place, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he says, “well I’ll just take the car and go get some more batteries.” 

Ryan reaches for the keys, but Shane shakes his head. “Immersion, baby,” he responds, tapping either side of Ryan’s chest. And that’s how Ryan ends up that night laying on the cold, damp floor with only a blanket and Shane to keep him warm. Comfortable.

Ryan, trying and failing to sleep while staring at the ceiling, says “I hate you,” into the silence. When Shane doesn’t respond, Ryan looks down at him. Shane’s got his head on Ryan’s chest, long legs bracketing Ryan’s, arms around his waist, dead asleep. He looks so peaceful like this, no worry on his face, and Ryan, despite himself, brushes Shane’s hair and thinks about how fucking lucky he is to have someone like Shane.

**SATURDAY**

Ryan wakes up to Shane sneaking out from their blanket. “No,” he whines, groggy, reaching his arms in Shane’s general direction. When there’s no reply, Ryan squints his eyes open.

Shane isn’t in their tent at all. Ryan thinks Shane may have been mauled by bears which, while obviously traumatizing, would kind of serve him right for not listening to Ryan in the first place.

“Shane?” Ryan calls. He reluctantly leaves the safety of their tent to hunt for Shane’s dead body, which is how he finds Shane sitting over the edge of a cliff, watching the sunrise. The fact that the sun is rising cements in Ryan’s mind that they definitely should be sleeping, but he finds it’s hard to be grumpy at being woken up so early when Shane looks fucking etheral, brilliant yellow and orange rays coating his skin, reflecting off the water, rising heat covering Ryan like a blanket.

Ryan sits next to Shane and laces their fingers together. Neither of them speak for a while, watching the sunrise until the sun has fully risen, and the heat is a little more present. Shane turns to kiss Ryan, whispers, “love you, baby,” like a secret for the two of them to share, and then promptly stands, quickly shreds his clothes (Ryan gives him an incredulous look for that one), and jumps into the water.

“What the fuck?” Ryan shouts down at his boyfriend when he emerges from the water, hair a mess and laughing. 

“Skinny dipping!” Shane answers. Ryan feels like he has god damn whiplash from the complete 180 his morning has taken. “Join me, Ry!”

Ryan, as with most things, feels drawn in like a moth to a flame to one of Shane’s crazy schemes. Despite himself, he shrugs off his clothes and jumps in the water next to Shane, making sure to thoroughly soak the asshole to teach him a lesson. 

“Hey!” Shane shouts when Ryan resurfaces from the water. He splashes Ryan, and Ryan splashes back, and eventually they’re in a full out splash war like children. It ends when Shane holds his hands up as Ryan splashes a particularly big splash in his face. “You win, you win.”

Ryan’s giggles die out as he takes Shane in. His skin is glowing in the morning sun, his hair a mess on top of his head, his eyes sparkly. Ryan moves closer so that he can pull Shane towards him until their skin is touching. He brushes a piece of Shane’s hair out of his face and says, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

Shane goes red. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he answers, and then pulls Ryan into a kiss. He tastes like seawater and s’mores and something so undeniably  _ Shane  _ that Ryan kind of never wants to stop kissing him, like, ever.

When Shane pulls back, he fixes Ryan with a devious smile. “You know,” he says conversationally, “back in the day, I held the record amongst my friends for the longest any of us could hold our breaths underwater.”

Sounds like a boastful lie, but to be fair, so does most of Shane’s crazy midwestern childhood. “Yeah?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah,” Shane replies. He skirts his fingers up Ryan’s thigh, almost touching him but not quite, and says against Ryan’s ear, all husky in a way that makes Ryan fucking melt, “you wanna see?”

When Ryan nods, Shane backs him up against the cliff and uses the momentum of the water to lift Ryan onto the cliff. Ryan wants to argue that this is really no testament to his breath-holding abilities, but then Shane pulls Ryan close by his ass and attaches his mouth to Ryan’s clit and Ryan really loses the ability to argue anything.

Shane pushes two fingers into Ryan’s hole and moves slowly, languidly, as if he has all the time in the world to make Ryan come apart. He lets up on Ryan’s clit to kiss just above, his thighs, everywhere but where Ryan needs him. Ryan locks his legs around Shane’s head, drawing him in closer. Shane pulls his fingers out just enough to spread Ryan’s lips, and he licks a broad stripe over them.

“Shane, Shane,” Ryan chants, his hands everywhere: Shane’s hair, his shoulders, his arms, wrapped around Ryan’s thighs. “You gotta-you-please-”

Thankfully, Shane has had training in understanding Ryan’s babbling and, perhaps more thankfully, he has a heart today. He pushes his fingers back deep into Ryan, gives him something to clench around, and sucks Ryan’s clit into his mouth again, hard. Ryan feels his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he’s pretty sure he would faint into the water if it wasn’t for Shane’s ridiculously big hands on his thighs. Ryan’s soaked and he’s not sure if it’s the lake or him.

When Ryan starts breathing hard around whines, Shane lets up on his clit and instead lets Ryan grind against the bridge of his nose, thrusting two fingers into him in a way that has Ryan gasping and pushing back against his hand. “Yeah,” Shane says. “Yeah, give it to me,” and then he curls his fingers against Ryan’s g-spot and Ryan sees stars.

Ryan comes hard and Shane follows him through it, thrusting his fingers hard, following the manic thrust of Ryan’s hips with his tongue fucking everywhere until Ryan comes down from it and pushes Shane’s head away. Shane pulls his fingers out of Ryan and says, through heavy breaths, “see? What did I tell you? I could hold my breath for  _ hours _ .” 

He’s so fucking full of himself but he’s also so gorgeous, red lips and wet face, that Ryan kind of has to pull him into a deep kiss.

They spend the rest of the day lazing around, laying in the grass in the afternoon sun, Ryan curled into Shane’s side, both of them naked as the day they were born, with no fear of people coming to find them and seeing them like this. No one around for miles. The sun on their skin. Ryan is a little loath to admit Shane was right. 

He must fall asleep for a while, because he wakes up to Shane tending to a campfire. He has a pair of Ryan’s basketball shorts slung low around his waist and not much else, and Ryan just wants to look at him for a while. Unfortunately, Shane has supersonic Ryan detectors. “Hey,” he greets. He turns to Ryan with a goofy smile. “Steven called.”

Ryan reaches out for Shane and Shane complies, letting Ryan pull him into a grass-centric cuddle. “I thought we were having a technology free weekend,” Ryan says, a lazy hand coming up to rub circles on Shane’s bare hip.

Shane laughs a little scary against Ryan’s skin. Ryan pulls back to look at Shane. “What did you do to Steven Lim?”

“Nothing,” Shane answers, though his smile gives away the fact that he’s a liar. “He asked where you were and I informed him you were sleeping and thoroughly immersed in our weekend long sex trip. To which he spluttered and hung up the phone.” 

Ryan laughs and tucks his face into the crook of Shane’s neck. “You’re horrible.”

Shane chuckles softly, his voice syrupy, as he dances his fingers along Ryan’s thigh. “You know,” he starts.

Ryan sighs softly and spreads his legs as Shane rubs his fingertips against Ryan’s opening. “I’m technically a liar.”

Ryan tries to push back on Shane’s fingers but he’s trapped by Shane’s arm holding his hips in place. “Oh yeah?” he says as he decides to relax into the feeling. “Why’s that?”

Shane presses a finger into Ryan and fucks him with it slowly. He leans down to whisper into Ryan’s ear. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

Ryan spreads his legs to give Shane a better angle. “We haven’t?” he asks, his voice breathy. “Wasn’t it you that ate me out until I thought you were going to drown? I was really afraid that I was going to have to call Steven and be like: ‘sorry, bro. He died eating pussy.’”

Shane laughs at that. “Steven would die too, and then you would be down to one CEO.” He rubs Ryan’s clit slowly and Ryan groans softly. “You know what I mean though, asshole. Penetration. Some good ole P in V.”

Ryan huffs out a laugh. “You are such a fucking cis guy.” Despite himself, he presses into Shane’s touch. “Go for it, man. P in V.”

Shane picks up his efforts then, pressing a second finger in beside his first. He stretches Ryan out on them, listens to the subtle changes in breathing. “You’re fucking beautiful,” Shane says, and then, just to be a dick, he presses another in and starts fucking Ryan in earnest. 

Ryan puts a hand on Shane’s arm and can feel the muscles contracting beneath the skin. “Shane,” he says, all breathy. “Shane, you gotta stop, man. I’m gonna come.”

Shane’s smile is kind of loopy when he replies, “yeah, that’s the point.” He crooks his fingers and leans down to whisper in Ryan’s ear. “I wanna watch it happen, baby. Wanna watch you get my fingers soaking wet. Wanna make sure you’re nice and sticky inside so I have somewhere nice to put my dick.”

That’s it for Ryan, he comes clinging onto Shane’s arms, rides it out with his hips pressed to Shane’s hand, sucks Shane’s fingers into him as far as they’ll go. When he’s done, Shane pulls his fingers out just barely, just enough for Ryan to see how sticky he is. “God, what a fucking mess,” Shane says.

Ryan gives him a challenging look. “Why don’t you clean it up?”

Shane, as always, takes the challenge. He ducks his head between Ryan’s legs. He laps up the come there, but refuses to touch Ryan’s clit, which just drives Ryan crazy. He sucks Ryan’s labia hard and Ryan very nearly passes out. “Oh my god,” he gripes, a hand in Shane’s hair. “Please, please fuck me.”

Shane gives one last suck to Ryan’s labia before pulling his head back. His face is fucking soaked and he might just be the most beautiful person Ryan’s ever seen. “Well,” Shane says, a hand on Ryan’s thigh, a little breathy. “Since you asked nicely and all.”

Shane hovers over Ryan with his hands on the floor, like some kind of poor intimation of a sex pushup. He uses one hand to push Ryan’s leg up so that it’s bent next to his chest, and uses this new angle to rub at Ryan’s opening with two of his fingers. Ryan whines at the feeling. “Stop being a tease,” he says, but he can’t quite catch his breath enough to sound angry.

Shane rolls his eyes but lines his cock up with Ryan’s entrance anyway. He pushes in slowly, and despite the fact that they’ve done this more times than Ryan could count to in this lifetime, it still takes his breath away every time. Once Shane is all the way in, pressing gentle kisses to Ryan’s face, Ryan feels so full that he might split in half. 

“Shane,” Ryan says. He gets his hands on the nape of Shane’s neck. He’s sweating, which should be gross, but Ryan can’t find it in himself to care. He’s getting fucked in the middle of the woods, is probably gonna find grass in horrible places for weeks to come, and all he can think about is how he wants  _ more _ .

Shane gives Ryan one shallow thrust that has Ryan crying out and canting his hips up. “You good?” Shane asks.

Ryan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, Shane, A+ dick game. Please  _ fuck me _ .”

Shane huffs out a laugh but starts giving it to Ryan in earnest, thrusting hard and fast, filling Ryan up and leaving him empty and filling him up again in a pattern that has Ryan dizzy with it. All he can do is hold on, his fingernails probably leaving indents in Shane’s shoulders, and get lost in the feeling of getting fucked right. 

Shane pants over him, right in his ear, which Ryan suspects should probably also be gross but is currently just hot as fuck. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Shane says, because even during sex, he can’t shut up. “So wet for me. So tight. Look at you. You’re fucking glowing, Ryan. You’re ethereal.” 

Ryan isn’t sure if he wants more to come or to cry. Shane, however, makes the executive decision for him. He rubs the pad of his thumb over Ryan’s clit in nice circular motions and whispers, right in his ear, “you gonna come for me?”

Ryan nods quickly. “Yes, yes, Shane, man, come on,” he pants senselessly, his nails digging so hard into Shane’s shoulders that Shane actually cringes a little. 

That doesn’t stop his attack on Ryan’s clit, though. “Come on,” he breathes into Ryan’s ear, presses a kiss against the skin of his neck. “Come for me, Ryan.”

Shane has some kind of sex superpower that makes Ryan helpless to do anything other than what Shane says. He comes around Shane’s cock like he’s possessed, white light gathered behind his eyes, pussy clenching hard around Shane’s cock, keeping him there, his hands fucking anywhere on Shane’s body that they can reach. Shane rubs him through it, only stops rubbing Ryan’s clit when Ryan pushes his hand away, just on the bad side of oversensitive. 

“Fuck,” Shane says, his open-mouthed breathing against Ryan’s neck. He sounds absolutely destroyed and Ryan can relate. He presses a hand to the back of Shane’s head and just cradles him to his body. “Can I-” Shane mutters. His hips thrust forward on their own accord and Ryan gasps. “Can I come inside you, Ryan? Please, please, I have to-”

Ryan cuts him off with an enthusiastic nod. “Yes, please, Shane.”

With permission, Shane thrusts his hips forward fast and deep, like he can’t bear to have his cock any further out of Ryan than absolutely necessary. He must have been holding back for Ryan’s sake, because it only takes a handful of thrusts before Ryan feels his cock throb inside him. Shane gets himself as far in as possible and comes, filling Ryan up so much he can hardly stand it. Ryan doesn’t get to see his face, but he can feel the puffs of hot air against his body, hears the way Shane says “Ry, Ry,” over and over, and that’s a treat in itself.

Shane stays shuddering on top of Ryan for a second, shaking with the sheer force of holding himself up for that long and fucking someone into the grass. Ryan would be kind of proud of if there was any more room in his head for thoughts. As it is, he just holds Shane close, enjoys the feeling of Shane’s cock inside him, keeping his come trapped deep inside Ryan.

Once Shane gets his brain back online, he rolls off of Ryan and lands on the grass with a hard  _ thud _ . Ryan can feel Shane’s come dripping out of him, which he always finds kind of gross, but makes Shane go blurry-eyed. Shane collects the come that’s dripped out and pushes it back into Ryan, to which Ryan whimpers from oversensitivity. 

“Do you want me to clean you out?” Shane whispers into Ryan’s ear, his voice deep and rough, and Ryan’s clit gives a weak jump that honestly kind of hurts.

“My guy, are you trying to kill me?” Ryan asks. He pulls Shane to his chest and kisses the top of his head. He likes being able to do that, horizontally, pretty much the only time he and Shane can be the same height. “Time to nap.”

Shane huffs out a laugh against Ryan’s collarbone. “Is that all you frat boys care about?” he asks. “Beer and naps?”

“And sex,” Ryan adds, already well on his way to sleep. “You made me come, like, three times today, dude. My body is begging for a nap.”

Ryan’s eyes are closed, but he can almost hear Shane’s cocky smirk as he says, “yeah. I’m kind of a god, aren’t I?” Ryan slips into unconsciousness, vaguely aware of Shane pressing a kiss to Ryan’s neck and saying, “I love you, baby.”

Ryan wakes up to a dark forest, Shane nowhere to be found. Ryan’s mind immediately goes to bears again, but when he sits up, he finds Shane tending to a campfire, sweats hanging low against his hips, a t-shirt hanging haphazardly from his shoulders, his glasses sideways and his hair a fucking mess as he digs through the utter shit pile of things Shane packed for their trip. 

“Shane,” Ryan says. Shane comically drops a backpack, and Ryan sends up a silent prayer to whatever deity is willing to listen to a bisexual trans man that his boyfriend hasn’t broken anything important. “What the fuck is happening?” 

“You’re gonna kill me,” Shane says, which is never a good way to start a sentence. Ryan sits up and Shane tosses him a sweatshirt and some pants. Ryan pulls the pants on and stands to put on the sweatshirt when Shane says, “it’s possible that s’mores are the only form of substance I’ve brought.”

Ryan stops with one arm in his sweatshirt and glares at Shane. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish,” Shane says. Ryan pulls his sweatshirt on finally and sits on the ground near the campfire. Shane rips open bags of graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate in quick succession and hands them off to Ryan. He has sticks too, somehow, which makes Ryan a little wary of the fact that Shane ‘forgot’ real food. Maybe his midwestern ass thought they could pillage or something.

“Come on,” Shane says, breaking Ryan out of his thoughts. He already has his marshmallow over the fire, and Ryan does the same. “I’m not telling Steven Lim you died naked in the woods from malnutrition.” 

With his free hand, Ryan mimes picking up a phone. “Uhhh,” he starts in a pretty bad Shane impression. “So Ryan died.”

Shane mimes being on the other end of the phone and pitches his voice up in an equally bad impression of Steven. “Oh gosh!” he says, which makes Ryan giggle. “Did he at least die peacefully?”

“Nah,” Ryan answers. He gives an exaggerated sigh and adds, “he was naked and really fucking pissed at me.”

“Oh!” Shane fake laments. “I have to go eat some gold to feel better about this!” He sighs. 

Ryan laughs again and pushes Shane’s shoulder. “Man, shut the fuck up.”

They put together their s’mores and eat in relative silence. Ryan can’t help stealing glances at Shane’s face as they eat. He looks gorgeous like this, lit up by the fire, chocolate running down his fingertips. Shane catches him staring when they finish eating and gives him a goofy smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ryan answers. “Just,” he shrugs. “Thank you for convincing me to do this. It really was fun.”

Shane’s smile gets bigger then, somehow. “You’re welcome.” He reaches over and touches his sticky fingers to Ryan’s. “I told you it would be better than Vegas.”

Ryan breaks into a comically big smile of his own. “Shut up, Shane.”

**SUNDAY**

Shane pulls up to Ryan’s house around midday and parks outside. “I’m glad you had a good time,” he says. He leans over and connects their lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“See you,” Ryan says softly. He gets out and takes the stairs up to his apartment, where Roland is eating cold pizza in some kind of trance. Ryan guesses he probably hasn’t slept since Ryan left on Friday.

Ryan joins him for a slice of pizza, finally, some real food, and gets a few bites in before there’s a knock at his door. “You gonna get that?” he asks Roland. Roland just shrugs, pretty fucking out of it, so Ryan sighs and, with one last bite of his pizza, goes to answer the door.

“What?” he asks, and is surprised when Shane backs him into the room, pushes him against the wall and kisses him senseless.

“I was wrong,” Shane says when he pulls back for air. “I don’t want to see you Monday. I want to see you right now. And tomorrow and the day after and every second of every day.”

From the kitchen table, Roland says, “ew?”

Ryan doesn’t look away from Shane’s eyes. “Shut it, Roland.”

  
  
  



End file.
